Forgotten Foods: Cardoons

Pretty, isn't it?  That there photo shows cardoon which is eaten relatively widely in France and the Mediterranean (it's pretty familiar to Italians and Spanish as cardoni).  I've been concentrating on international food largely for this blog, and when I stumbled across cardoons, I was surprised to see that it was popular in the UK during the 19th Century.  I'm sure it is still eaten in the UK and I'm just behind on the latest foodie zeitgeist, but its popularity has certainly declined - its a totally new ingredient to me.

So its perhaps not entirely forgotten, but its fair to say that most of us in the UK won't have come across one before.

Which is a shame, because given the trials of the economy and the idea of thrift being high on everyone's agendas, cardoons are apparently rather low maintenance to grow (although from what I've read, its not a staple - more a seasonal boon). Fundamentally, its an edible thistle, which I quite like the sound of, and is a relative of the artichoke. You eat the stalk, rather than that pretty thistle head, and the taste has been described as celery-meets-artichoke.

It takes a bit of prep, it would seem.  According to this site, which is excellent by the by, you need to trim the spines, peel the fibres and then bring them to boil in a pan of water for around 30 minutes...so a tad labour intensive.

However, the recipes sound delicious including the recipe on the above site for honeyed cardoons with pine nuts and thyme.

Definitely an ingredient to grow or look out for on the rare occasion it pops up at a farmers' market.

Unusual Ingredients: Japan-Style

I love sushi, but I must confess to being very ignorant about Japanese cuisine - this is something I should really rectify, as I'm pretty fascinated by Japanese culture.  Often, though, I have the feeling in the UK its very difficult to find really good, authentic Japanese restaurants - Wagamamas and Yo Sushi dont't really cut it.  The best one I know of is Endamame in Oxford - a great restaurant that frequently has a queue.


Anyway, besides that, I decided for the purposes of this blog, I would delve a little deeper into some of Japan's more unusual culinary ingredients.


And, well, I don't mind telling you - Japan came up trumps for what seems (to my English tastebuds) - a veritable treasure house of the exotic, the weird and the no doubt wonderful.  Like alot of Chinese cuisine, it also came equipped with some wonderful names, including:


Shirouo No Odorigui, or 'Dancing Icefish' - Sounds cool, huh?  Well, dancing icefish are small, transparent little fish that are served and eaten alive.  The wriggling in the mouth is what gives rise to the 'dancing'.  I couldn't find much about how they actually taste, but the idea certainly seems more appealing to me than 1000 year eaggs and beche de mer.





Another set of ingredients that caught my eye were the insects that feature in Japanese cuisine.  Bugs like grasshoppers, cicadas, locusts, wasps and silk worms are also found in other Asian diets.  Now, a confession.  The idea of eating bugs gives me some pause.  Bushtucker trials would require some steely determination and no small amount of actual hunger for me to contemplate.  However,  I do cope better with the idea of them being cooked and I berate myself with the idea that I'm being a such wimp when it comes to eating insects.  And, to be honest, after beche de mer, my benchmark for gross has changed quite a bit.


There is also the simple fact that a lot of the insects that make it onto plates in Japan and elsewhere are actually very good for you.  They've got good protein to fat ratios, and like fish, the fats are of the right unsaturated type.  


So really what I'm saying is I should man up and strap on a pair when it comes to the idea of eating delicacies like hachinoko (see the photo below) - wasp larvae - which has the highest protein of any insect; something like 81%, I gather.  Its usually cooked in soy sauce and sugar.  Or, there's zaza mushi - that's stonefly larvae - which is often found in tins and cans and again, the larvae are cooked in soy sauce and sugar.

Unusual Ingredients: 1000 Year Eggs

Well, everyday is a school day and no mistake.  I stumbled upon, today, an ingredient I had never heard of before but the name of which sounded pretty cool - 1000 year eggs; also known as century eggs, pine-patterned eggs (due to the branch-like patterns that sometimes appear on the surface of the egg) or pidan in Chinese.

That's them above.  Certainly, the naming seems to be spot on - they certainly look like they're late Ming Dynasty.

So, basically a 1000 year egg is a preserved egg.  Chicken, duck or quail eggs are preserved within a mixture of salt, ash, lime, clay and rice hulls for a few weeks to up to a couple of months.  Now, what happens is all that alkaline stuff raises the pH balance of the egg, and the end result is a yolk that turns a creamy, greenish-grey (smelling strongly of sulphur and ammonia) and the egg white becomes a translucent brown, flavourless jelly.

Tasty, huh?

They can be eaten on their own, but they're also used in a wide variety of Far Eastern cookery from China to Taiwan.  One such recipe is 'old-and-fresh eggs' where these little stinkers are added to omelettes made of fresh eggs.  Sounds a bit of an egg overload to me...

Rumour had it that century eggs were actually preserved in horse urine.  That is not true, people.  The overpowering whiff of ammonia, created when proteins in the egg break down, probably gave rise to that idea.  So while the mere sight of them may make you think of a zombie movie, you can at least chow down safe in the knowledge that they didn't get that way as a result of wee.  So that's good news.

The name *is* pretty cool though, so I'd give them a whirl.  Also, the outside (see below), when encrusted with the clay and ash etc. looks a little like a dragon egg prop from a film set - which appeals to my inner geek.  Either that, or an owl pellet...  :-/

North African Essentials: Harissa and Preserved Lemons

After the nausea inspired by the rather unprepossessing beche de mer yesterday, I decided I needed some international fodder that I *actually* find very tasty indeed.  So, for today's post I've concentrated on two particular ingredients that I can't get enough of - harissa, and preserved lemons.  These two ingredients are commonly associated with North African food, and also more broadly speaking, Middle Eastern cookery.

Harissa is, as you can see from the photo above, a vibrant red paste that originated in Tunisia and Algeria, I gather, but can also be found in Moroccan recipes.  Effectively, its a chili sauce comprised of hot chili types like serrano or piri piri.  Moroccan-style harissa is somewhat simpler than Tunisian, being primarily made of rehydrated chili.  The Tunisian variety is considered to be a more complex beast, blended with garlic and spices like cumin and coriander seed.

I found this recipe for making your own harissa from Artichoke to Za'atar: Modern Middle Eastern Food by Greg Malouf.

Use harissa as a marinade or a rub on meats like lamb.  Harissa can also be used to pep up soups or other sauces.I made this Moroccan meatball and couscous recipe, using harissa, recently and it went down a storm.

Preserved lemons are a big favourite of mine, as I have a desperate addiction to salty, sharp condiments (don't get me started on lime pickle).  They're found, too, in other international fayre like Indian and Cambodian cooking (never tried Cambodian food; one for the to do list).  Essentially, lemons - either whole, diced or quartered - are allowed to ferment at room temperature in a solution of lemon juice, water and salt.  The process, like all pickling, usually takes a couple of months.  Generally, its the skin that is considered the best part although the pulp can be used (apparently, its pretty good in a Bloody Mary - my favourite cocktail, so I must give it a go).

I'm a big fan of tagine, in which preserved lemons often make and appearance - here's a simple chicken and preserved lemon tagine recipe.

Preserved lemons are pretty easy to make.  Click here for a quick 'how to'.

Unusual Ingredients - Beche De Mer / Sea Cucumber

What a tasty looking critter, I hear you say.  

Well, apparently, it is considered to be.  The sea cucumber, or beche de mer in French (does sound a little more appetising, I suppose) is an ingredient that can be found in Chinese cookery.

Known as 'Hai Sen' or 'sea ginseng', the humble sea cucumber has been prized for its gelatinous texture since antiquity and was often served up at banquets.  Quite the treat, I'm sure.  It is most usually found dried, when it becomes hard and must therefore be onerously prepared before you get to scoff it.

Firstly, comes the soaking phase.  How long this takes depends on the sea cucumber's size, grade and type - in some recipes I've read, it often mentions between 4-6 days as an average.  During that time, the water has to be changed every day and the sea cucumber must be completely submerged.  By about day 2-3, it should start to soften and you can use a sharp knife to cut the cucumber open and clean out the internal organs (mainly intestines).  You might not get all of the innards out in one go, but repeat until the cavity is clean.  By the time the soaking is over, the sea cucumber will have about doubled its original size.

Next, the boiling phase.  Again, depending on the sea cucumber, this takes about an hour.  Some recipes seem to suggest infuisng the water at this time with things like ginger, and others advocate just plain water.  Either way, chuck the water when you're done.

So, how do you cook with it?  Well, sea cucumber is a foil to other ingredients, it would seem, without much flavour of its own.  Not surprising, really, since there's not a whole lot to a sea cucumber.  Global Gourmet has what sounds like a palatable recipe here.

Would I give it a go?  I'll be honest, probably not after watching a YouTube video where a guy guts and prepares fresh sea cucumbers.  Grim is the only word and although the Chinese believe sea cucumber to be an aphrodisiac, I'm not convinced.  I also watched the BBC's series about the Great Barrier Reef, and from memory, I think there is a fascinating but nevertheless heave-worthy set of scenes where a fish makes its home inside the anus and intestinal tract of a sea cucumber.  Again, this hasn't warmed me to beche de mer as a delicacy.

I can certainly say, therefore, that I'd give them a whirl only if they were dried and prepped and preferably already in a dish.  You can view the gutting and preparation video here, but I strongly advise that those of you who are squeamish, just move on to happier things rather than watch this.

And here's an image of some prepared ones.